


you're my armor, i'm your defeat

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 10:46:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7888267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monty and Miller have been dating for years, but when Harper comes to visit things start to get a little tricky. </p><p>Miller x Monty</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're my armor, i'm your defeat

**Author's Note:**

> someone requested established relationship fic, but also jealousy and angst, and here we are! lots of fun to write, hope you like it.

When Monty asked if Harper could stay at their apartment for a few days next month, Miller agreed to it without even thinking. To be fair he was incredibly distracted at the time, his arms wound around Monty’s waist as he pressed kisses to Monty’s bare shoulder at their kitchen counter. Monty had been sipping on his morning coffee and Miller was still half-asleep, wanting nothing more than to meld himself to Monty after waking up alone in bed because Monty had to get ready for work.

“You sure it’s okay?” Monty asked.

“Anything you want, babe.”

But again, Miller was distracted.

He’d never met Harper and he didn’t know much about her other than the fact that she and Monty had dated literally eons ago. When Monty moved out West to start his life after graduating from college, Harper was one of the many things left back home.

Between then and now so much had happened. Such as Miller and Monty going on their first date, and their second, and their hundredth, and moving in together, and adopting a cat, and the typical things two people do when they’re together for three years.

If Miller had really thought about it, he might’ve said something else.

* * *

It was a rainy morning when Miller and Monty drove out to the airport to pick up Harper. Monty had been getting increasingly excited for Harper to arrive, so much so that he started arranging Padme’s cat toys based on color.

“I just want everything to be right,” Monty said when Miller questioned him.

Monty had cleaned their entire apartment from top to bottom, had purchased Harper’s favorite coffee creamer, and made reservations at multiple fancy restaurants.  He seemed to be humming with energy, nearly vibrating at the fact that his longtime friend would be arriving. And there was something about that excitement that didn’t sit well in Miller’s stomach.

He lingered back when Harper’s plane let out and watched as this stranger and his boyfriend collided at full force, tugging each other into one another’s arms and squeezing with everything that they had. She was beautiful, Miller couldn’t deny that. Harper, with her honey-colored hair and bright smile. Harper, looking happier to see Monty than he was to see her, which was _infinitely_.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she was saying.

Miller barely heard her over the roaring in his ears.

* * *

While Harper was one of the many people Monty left behind when he moved, Jasper was not. Monty and Jasper were tethered at the hip, a friendship so endless that graduating and moving up to the real world was never going to stop them. They’d lived together before Miller and Monty started dating and Jasper was still around at every chance he got.

He knew Harper. He loved Harper, too.

Just like Monty was, Jasper’s all smiles and hugs when they show up to Bellamy’s home that night with Harper in tow. Again Miller lingered back, feeling awkward and confused and still like there was something heavy in his stomach. Monty and Jasper and Harper, all back together again, it was weird. And Miller, for the first time in a very long time, felt like an outsider.

The three of them had a natural energy that Miller couldn’t wrap his head around. They seemed to know what the other was going to say way before it came out of their mouths, already laughing at things Miller didn’t understand.

“You okay?” Raven asked, finding Miller standing alone by the back wall. He’d barely even entered Bellamy’s house, still feeling out of place.

“Just letting them…” he trailed off, gesturing to the tri-union that was going on. Raven laughed a little and looked at the three of them. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Raven echoed.

* * *

It wasn’t until later in the night, Harper and Monty still babbling on and on about God knows what, did Jasper get a minute with Miller.

“I’m glad you’re cool with it,” Jasper said to him as he nursed a beer, “letting Harper stay with you. I mean I would but my apartment is the size of a large freezer and my dog doesn’t like guests.”

“It’s whatever,” Miller said. Because it was. It was something Monty wanted, his friend to stay with them, and Miller did most things that Monty wanted.

“I didn’t think you would be,” Jasper admitted. Miller waited for the elaboration. “I mean, you know they were together, right?”

“In like, high school.”

“Okay, no,” Jasper stopped him. “They started _dating_ in high school and only broke up right before he moved out here.”

“That was still years ago,” Miller said. He’d known Monty for a few years before they’d started dating, which totaled to, what, six years? It had been six years. “No big deal.”

“She was his first, like, _everything_ ,” Jasper said with a twinkle in his eyes that made Miller’s stomach roll. As if not sensing that Miller wanted this conversation to end, he kept rambling on. “First kiss, first romp around the hay, first—”

“I get it,” Miller stopped him. Harper was Monty’s first everything.

_First love._

It was hard for Miller to swallow.

“It’s just cool that you’re cool with it,” Jasper carried on. “I know it’d make me a little nervous if Maya’s old boyfriend started coming around again.”

* * *

Miller felt horrible. Because Harper was great. She  _was_ .

He’d been talking to her on and off all day and there was nothing awful about her. She was sarcastic and rolled her eyes when Monty reminded her about x y or z. She was seriously interested in hearing about Miller’s life, about his work, about his future. Harper was kind and sincere and _great_.

Miller couldn’t stop comparing himself to her.

Where she was all smiles, Miller was mostly scowls. Where Harper was bright, bubbly laughter, Miller was a hesitant rumbling chuckle. She was just _more_. She was more than he was or ever would be. He didn’t have an endless supply of optimism, he didn’t have the never-ending energy that she was radiating. He wasn’t anywhere close.

And then with the comparison of himself to Harper came the next step, comparing his relationship with Monty to Monty’s old relationship with Harper.

It was driving him mad, the wondering. Wondering if Monty hummed into Harper’s mouth when they kissed, a pleased little noise Miller swore was just for him. Or if Monty gasped into her mouth, rocking his hips forward like when Miller’s thumbs pressed hard against Monty’s hips as though he was anticipating something. He wondered if Harper had known him that well, if Monty had allowed Harper to know him as well as Miller thinks he knows him.

Or maybe it was something else. Maybe Harper knew Monty in a way different than Miller knew him. Maybe Harper knew things about Monty that Miller would never get the chance to know.

“Nate.” Monty pulled back slightly, Miller’s mouth not even chasing his. They’d finally retreated to their room after getting Harper settled and Miller had been on him in an instant, needing to kiss away these toxic thoughts that were tumbling around his brain. Five minutes later and they weren’t going anywhere. “What’s wrong?”

Miller shook his head. “Nothing.”

“I know when you’re lying to me,” Monty said. And it was true. Monty _did_ know things like that. Because Miller had given himself over to Monty completely. There were no secrets on Miller’s side, no hidden loves, nothing. “What’s wrong?” he asked again.

Again Miller shook his head. Because how could he voice that fear? He knew it was insubstantial. That jealousy was horrible and petty and _pointless_ , especially with Monty who loved Miller _so fiercely_.

“Nothing,” Miller said again. It tasted bitter in his mouth. “It’s just been a long day, you know?”

And that was true, it had been a long day. It wasn’t a complete lie.

Monty nodded. “It’s been good though,” Monty said. “Right?” And Miller tried to nod, tried to look as bright as Harper always did. “You like Harper, yeah?”

And again, not a lie when he said, “She’s great.”

The way Monty’s face lit up when Miller said it made Miller’s heart break into a million pieces.

* * *

Miller woke up to a cold bed, his fingers stretching out to where Monty should be sleeping. After pressing his hand to the dented pillow, finding that cold as well, he forced himself to sit up. Monty must’ve crawled out of bed a while ago.

Moments after that thought settles in his mind, Miller heard tinkering laughter filtering in his room from the kitchen. Padme jumped up onto his bed and climbed over to where Miller collapsed back into the sheets with a sigh.

At least his cat still loved him.

“Stop it,” Miller said out loud. He was being ridiculous. Of course Monty still loved him. Padme nuzzled close to Miller’s face and Miller tipped his head out of the way.

Monty could still love Harper too, though. What was it Jasper had said? _They only broke up right before he moved out here_. Harper and Monty only broke up right before Monty moved out here. Which meant that distance was what ended it, not anything else. So what was to prevent Monty from still loving her the way he used to? Especially if there was nothing actually wrong in their relationship.

“ _Stop it_ ,” Miller said again, squeezing his eyes shut. He forced himself out of bed at Padme’s disapproval and pulled on a shirt quickly before lumbering to the kitchen, finding Harper and Monty sitting together at the kitchen table. “Morning,” he said.

“Look who finally crawled out of bed,” Harper said with a bright smile. “Monty was convinced you were going to sleep the day away.”

“Thought about it,” Miller admitted. He went to the coffee machine to pour himself a mug before turning to look at them. “What’s on your schedule for the day?”

“Harper wants to look at some apartments,” Monty said.

Miller’s stomach dropped into his toes. “What?”

“It’s why I flew out,” Harper said after swallowing her sip. “I’ve been thinking about moving out here for a while. Things might finally be working out for me.”

Miller’s hands were shaking. “That’s great,” he lied. “Glad to hear it.”

* * *

Miller ended up at the bar with Bellamy. Before noon. Because he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. He knew he was being stupid,  _he knew that_ , and it made it so much worse. But he couldn’t stop himself from thinking it and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking and he needed alcohol very, very badly.

“You ever gonna tell me why you needed to be drunk before noon?” Bellamy asked from Miller’s left. “Or do I have to guess?”

“You could probably figure it out,” Miller muttered.

“I mean, yeah. But me guessing prevents you from expressing your feelings.”

“I’m bad at that.”

Bellamy snorted. “I know.” Sucking at feelings was how Bellamy and Miller ended up such good friends in the first place. “What’s going on?”

Miller didn’t know where to start. He motioned for another shot and though Bellamy gave him a look, his friend didn’t say anything. It took a little bit for the alcohol to settle in Miller’s body but soon his hands weren’t shaking anymore and everything felt slightly off focus.

“I want to marry him,” Miller said.

Bellamy arched an eyebrow. “Monty?”

“I want to spend the rest of my fucking life with him,” Miller carried on, his voice low and steady. “And I know I’m being a fucking idiot, I know that, so don’t _tell me_ that because _I know_.”

“Okay.”

“But she could give him so much more than me, and—fuck.” Fuck. Bellamy didn’t say anything, and Miller couldn’t look at him. Everything inside of him felt twisted and hazy and horrible. “Monty wants kids and with her he could have kids that are genetically his, you know? Not that—he says he wants to adopt but kids with his own fucking genes? Like—fuck, we can’t _do_ that.” One Miller started talking he couldn’t stop. “And generally, like, she’s a fucking woman. His family would be so much happier if they were together and Monty loves his family, and society as a whole would be more accepting of the two of them. Fucking—I hate this. I don’t know if he’s been this happy in for fucking ever. I can’t remember the last time Monty smiled so much. Like—why hasn’t he been smiling like that with me?”

Miller couldn’t breathe. Everything inside of him was aching.

“Okay,” Bellamy said again. “Take a second.” Miller tried inhaling and exhaling and was failing spectacularly. Bellamy motioned for the bartender to bring over some water. “How long have you and Monty been together?” Bellamy asked.

Miller’s chest felt tight. “Three years.”

“Has he said anything to you recently that made you think those three years have been horrible? Or that he wants something else?”

“No, but—”

“Stop.” Miller squeezed his eyes shut tight. “Talk to him,” Bellamy said. Miller shook his head. “Why not?”

“Because I know I sound fucking insane,” Miller rasped.

The glass of water Bellamy motioned for finally arrived, and he slid it to Miller. “It doesn’t matter how you sound,” Bellamy said. “It matters how you feel.”

Through the haze of the alcohol in his mind Miller registered that Bellamy had grown a lot in terms of addressing feelings ever since he and Clarke had gotten together, but it was just a brief thought. Because then he was thinking about Bellamy and Clarke and how they were perfect together, completely compatible, balancing each other out like the moon and the stars in the night sky. Neither of them got weirdly jealous and broken at the thought of them with an ex.

Miller didn’t say anything when he finally opened his eyes, he just reached for the water and took a big swig, the taste of it funny after his shots. Bellamy was watching him, waiting for a response, but Miller didn’t know if anything would come.

“How do you think Monty would feel if you brought Bryan over to stay for a few nights?” Bellamy asked, changing tactics.

“That’s irrelevant,” Miller muttered. “Because Bryan and I aren’t still friends.” They were on okay terms, but definitely not okay-enough for Bryan to crash on the couch. “And I certainly wouldn’t light up like a fucking firework if I saw him again.”

Bellamy sighed. “You've got to talk to him, Miller. It’ll kill you if you don’t.”

And Miller knew that was true. He just wasn’t sure if he could do it.

* * *

The only reason Miller managed to make it through dinner with Monty and Harper is because there was more alcohol. If there hadn’t been alcohol Miller wasn’t sure he could’ve done it.

Harper had fallen in love with an apartment that was a fifteen-minute drive from where Miller and Monty were currently living, and Monty was infinitely excited by the idea of Harper being so close. If Monty noticed that Miller had gotten multiple refills on his glass of wine, he wasn’t saying anything. So Miller just kept drinking and forcing a smile and nodding when necessary.

It was like they spoke another language entirely. They’d shared an entire life together that Miller hadn’t been a part of and would never understand. He once again was feeling vastly out of place, and that made everything worse.

By the time they paid the bill and ended up back in their apartment, Miller was ready for bed. Monty wished Harper a good night before entering their bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Monty lingered against the door, watching Miller perched on the edge of the bed for a moment, before a soft smile came to his face.

“You okay?” Monty asked.

“You’ve asked me that a lot lately,” Miller said.

Monty shrugged, stepping toward him. “You drank a lot at dinner tonight.” So he had noticed. Miller shrugged, too. Monty leaned down and cupped his boyfriend’s cheek, tipping his chin back and kissing him firmly. “Everything alright?”

 _No_ , Miller wanted to say. It was screaming inside his head. Instead he said, “I love you.” Monty’s smile stretched into a grin and he leaned in again, kissing him again. Still that _no_ was pounding in Miller’s head. Bellamy was right, he needed to _say_ something, but he was still buzzed and kissing Monty like this, his warm mouth against his own, made everything feel okay.

So he just kissed Monty some more, dragging him to their bed and trying to lose himself in the feeling. They ended up with Monty on the bed beneath him, Miller’s hands fumbling for the button on Monty’s jeans, when Monty finally pulled back.

“Stop, stop,” Monty exhaled. His lips were swollen, his eyes were dark, and Miller had to clench his teeth to keep from practically pouncing on him. Miller waited for a reason why they should stop. Because they’d _definitely_ gone farther than this before, like last week for example, and Miller _needed_ this. “I just—I don’t want Harper to hear,” Monty said. There was a little laugh in his voice but Miller could barely hear it. There were other implications there that sat heavy in his stomach. And just like that, Miller was snapped back to this reality, this horrible suffocating reality. “And you had a lot to drink at dinner, and—”

“Yeah,” Miller cut him off. He peeled away from Monty so fast that Monty sensed right away that he was hurt. “Stop,” Miller turned to him as Monty reached out. “It’s fine.”

But Monty’s eyebrows were drawn together. “You’re upset. Nate—”

“It’s fine,” Miller said again. He climbed out of bed and started for the bathroom attached to their room. “I understand.”

And he did, okay? He did understand. But it still hurt and Miller still couldn’t breathe. He shut the door and took a deep breath, and another, and another, and everything still felt way too tight. He splashed cold water on his face and brushed his teeth and tried to wait until everything didn’t suck before returning to his bedroom.

Monty had changed into pajamas by then and looked concerned. He was sitting on the edge of the bed gnawing on his bottom lip, his eyebrows still pulled together. Miller went to his dresser and dug around for his own pajamas, his back to Monty as he changed quickly.

“You make it hard for me to be quiet,” Monty said after a bit. Miller’s first thought went to Harper, wondering if the same applied for her. “You’re good at what you do. That’s all.”

Miller wanted to stop feeling like this.

He turned to look at his boyfriend, finding a nervous smile had now taken his face. “Monty,” Miller sighed. “It’s fine. Really.”

“I’m happy to make out with you until our lips are numb,” Monty offered.

Miller tried to force a laugh, but it fell flat. “Let’s just go to bed.”

Together they climbed under the blankets, but Monty was hesitant to move into Miller’s arms like they laid every night. After flicking the lights off, the silence was heavier in the dark.

“Are you mad at me?” Monty asked, his voice just only a whisper.

“Never,” Miller answered. And it was true. He wasn’t. And still.

“You’d tell me if you were,” Monty said. “Right?” Miller reached out then, unable to take the distance a second longer, and crushed Monty close against him. He pressed a warm kiss to Monty’s forehead and felt all of the tension ease out of the boy in his arms at once. “I love you,” Monty whispered, nuzzling close.

Somehow it still didn’t feel like enough.

* * *

Today was different than the day before. When Miller woke up Monty was still there, curled beside him, his head on Miller’s chest. His breathing wasn’t shallow though, so Miller knew he was awake. Miller shifted just a little so Monty knew he was awake as well.

They were quiet for a bit before Monty asked, “What are you doing today?”

Teaching English at a nearby high school meant that summers were generally open. Which was typically great. But today Miller needed to be busy. “Lesson plan stuff,” he said. From the angle they were laying Miller couldn’t see Monty’s face, and Monty couldn’t see his. “Why?”

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to the beach with me and Harper.”

Miller squeezed his eyes shut. “You two go. I don’t wanna intrude.” Miller wanted Monty to say something like _I want you there_ , or _it would be more fun if you came too_ , or something that made it feel less like a pity invite than anything else. “She’s here for you, not me.”

Monty pressed a warm kiss to Miller’s bare chest where the collar of his shirt dipped low. “If you’re sure,” Monty said.

He wasn’t.

* * *

Miller was in his office at school, taking a break from lesson planning (which wasn’t coming along very well anyway, thanks to his stupid distracted brain stuck on Monty), when he literally felt like he was going to cry. He’d been browsing Instagram when he reached a photo that Jasper posted. He’d gone along to the beach with Monty and Harper and the photo, God, it was just  _too much_ .

Monty and Harper were holding hands which were thrown in the air as they sprinted toward the waves.

 _happy to spend a day with my fave people_ read Jasper’s caption. Miller couldn’t load Facebook fast enough, knowing Jasper was addicted to every form of social media that existed, and wasn’t surprised to find that more photos had been posted. They, too, were too much.

Monty and Harper laughing together, Monty and Harper smiling at one another, Monty and Harper looking content to stare at one another until the sun exploded and ended the existence of mankind. What made it worse was a comment on one of them from good old Hannah Green, Monty’s mom.

 _It’s so nice to see you and Harper together again_ , it read.

Because Miller was never enough.

* * *

Monty had texted Miller early afternoon that he wouldn’t be home for dinner, so Miller sat in their apartment and ate alone, Padme circling around his feet as though sensing Miller was aching on the inside. He tried to read to distract himself and when that didn’t work he tried turning on the TV but nothing was working, and Miller couldn’t stop looking toward the door.

Earlier than Miller anticipated, Monty returned home. He smelled like the sea and his hair was tousled from the wind and he looked happy. He shut the door behind him, alone, and Miller shifted his spot on the couch so he was better facing where Monty was.

“No Harper?” Miller asked.

Monty looked up, that soft smile still on his face, and shook his head. “She’ll be in late. She and Jasper are going Pokemon hunting. Catching up.” Monty kicked off his shoes and dipped down, petting Padme as he crossed the room toward his boyfriend. “How was your day?” he asked, settling down beside him.

“It was okay. Yours?”

Monty’s smile grew again. “It was so fun, Nate. You should’ve come.”

“Yeah.” Monty shifted in his spot, sprawling out with his legs stretched out on the couch as he rested against Miller. And Miller tugged him closer, fighting off every ounce of jealousy that was inside of him, fighting off every negative and horrible thought that was like poison in his mind. “Glad you had fun.”

“It’s so great having Harper around again,” Monty said. “She’s just so much _fun_.” Miller’s hand tensed and he fought and he fought and he fought against it but everything still ached. Monty didn’t seem to have any idea. “I don’t know,” he continued, “it just feels like I’ve been missing something for a while and she’s brought it back. Does that make sense?”

Miller stood at once, striding away from the couch and leaving Monty to fall backwards, looking confused.

“Are you in love with her?” Miller asked. It bubbled out of him like an accusation despite the fact that he tried his hardest not to make it seem that way. His words were sharp and angry and broken all at once. “Harper.”

Monty blinked a few times. “ _What_?”

“She was your first everything,” Miller nearly exploded. Because he couldn’t keep it inside anymore, he just couldn’t. Jealousy was heavy and painful and hot and he needed it out of him, he needed it gone. “And I get it, okay? First loves are—fuck.”

Miller didn’t know how to say it. That he understood despite not wanting to. Part of him still loved his first boyfriend, part of him always would. But he wouldn’t light up like Monty did when he first saw Harper. He wouldn’t glow and laugh and _thrive_ over Bryan being here, not like Monty is with Harper. Because that’s a chapter in his life that’s closed and over and gone, not something he wants to keep writing.

“She was my first love,” Monty agreed carefully as he sat up. And Miller knew that’s how it was, careful. Because Miller never got like this. Jealous. Confused. Hesitant. Self-conscious. Not about his and Monty’s relationship, not ever. They were always steady, even in times of turmoil. And this was something else. Monty could sense that. “But that’s… Nate, that’s it.”

That wasn’t it. Miller wanted to tell him that _wasn’t_ it. Because Monty still loved this girl.

“Talk to me,” Monty said as he stood before taking a step toward him. “What are you—what’s in your head?”

And somehow that hurt, too. That Monty couldn’t figure this out, how Miller was feeling. Because they were _so good_ at that, reading one another. And now everything felt congested and hazy and generally awful.

“You love her,” Miller finally rasped. Miller’s eyes dropped to the ground because he couldn’t look at Monty anymore, not a second longer. "I can see it." It felt like his heart was about to burst from the weight of it. “And I get it.”

Monty moved quickly then, stepping toward Miller with intention. He cupped Miller’s jaw and dipped himself down, trying to get Miller to meet his eyes, and wouldn’t quit until Miller did so.

“You’re an idiot,” Monty murmured. He leaned up, stealing a quick kiss from his boyfriend before pulling back. “Of course I love her.” Miller’s eyebrows drew together at once but Monty stopped him from speaking by kissing him another time. “Just—shut up for a second.” Monty’s other hand traveled up to cup the other side of Miller’s face so Monty could cradle him in his hands. “You said it yourself, she was my first love. But, Nate, Jesus, I don’t want _first love_ anymore.”

“Monty—”

“ _Shh_.” Silenced with another kiss, Miller bit the inside of his cheek to keep from talking. Monty’s fingers curled behind Miller’s ears. “I love you.” He said it clearly so Miller could understand every word. “I’m in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my freaking _life_ with you.”

“ _Monty_.”

“I don’t want first love,” Monty whispered. “I want _this_ love.” Miller nearly shuddered in relief at this statement, so simple and so pure and so _much_. “If I ever made you think anything else, I…” Monty trailed off with a little laugh. “I don’t even know how it’s possible, Nate, because you—you’re, you’re _it_ , you know?” His hand slipped a little, his palm pressing into Miller’s cheek. “You’re it.”

Miller turned the little bit he could and kissed Monty’s wrist before turning back and kissing him again. He was supposed to be _good_ with words, what with his English degree hanging on the wall and all, but there was nothing he could say to express the feelings that were inside him currently. So he kissed Monty with everything, pushing him back toward the couch, desperate to make Monty understand how he felt.  

“It just feels like,” Miller finally puffed against Monty’s neck, “with her, you just—I don’t know, Monty.”

Monty dragged him up again. “You’re jealous,” he said. But he said it in a way where Miller knew that Monty had only _just_ figured this out. That Miller’s been jealous. “You’ve been—that’s why you’ve been so closed off.” Miller pulled back then, readjusting himself on the couch with his legs under him, as he tried to get a better look at Monty. “Of _Harper_?”

But before Miller could answer him, Monty flung himself at him. They were kissing again, frantic desperate kisses that eased the dark around Miller’s thoughts with every one of them. Monty wound himself against his boyfriend and Miller struggled but finally managed to find his feet, carrying Monty off to their bedroom and closing the door behind them.

* * *

Tangled together under their sheets, close enough that their lips were always brushing, Miller remembered how to breathe again. Every time he got too far away Monty would lean in and steal another kiss. Every now and then Monty would bend and kiss Miller’s chin, or further and nip at his collarbone, or maybe just plant one on Miller’s bare chest. His hands were constantly roaming Miller’s body, across his hips, up his spine, over his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Miller murmured. The silence between them no longer felt heavy, but again was familiar and comfortable. “I don’t know. It was eating me alive.”

“I’d never seen you like that before,” Monty said with a little hum. He traced his finger down the tip of Miller’s nose before following his cheekbone back. “Jealous.”

“I never had a reason to be jealous like that before,” Miller murmured back.

Monty laughed brilliantly. “You never had a reason at _all_ , Nate. When I say you’re it _, I mean that_.” And the way Monty said it now, so firm and sure, Miller believed him entirely. It felt like light was seeping into his veins. “Harper, she’s one of my best friends,” Monty said. “She always will be. She helped me come to terms with who I really am. But I don’t—I’ll never love her like I love you. I’ve never loved _anyone_ like I love you, Nate.”

How could Miller have ever doubted this? “I love you,” Miller echoed softly.

“I’m sorry I ever made you think—”

“You didn’t,” Miller tried. “Jasper said something and it just… it got out of hand.” Miller curved his hand around Monty’s cheek. “Sometimes you’d look at Harper and you’d just look so happy, I don’t know. And I kept thinking about how everything would be easier with her.”

“Like what?” Monty asked.

Miller brushed his thumb over Monty’s lip. “Kids, I guess. You’ve always wanted them, and—”

“Adoption is valid and just because a child doesn’t share my blood doesn’t mean they won’t be my kid,” Monty cut him off.

“And your mom,” Miller carried on. “Your family. They’ve never liked me much.”

“They can screw right off,” Monty said. “I love them to death, but they’re not the one I want to marry.” Miller wanted to dissolve again, the relief and the love he felt right now just so _tangible_.

"And you never—you two only broke up because of distance, so I thought—”

"We broke up because we worked better as friends," Monty stopped him another time. "Not because I was moving. It was just the final nail in the coffin." Monty edged forward for another kiss. "She realized she was more into girls and I was more into guys and it was  _weird_. Not because I was moving." 

"You said you feel something now that she's back," Miller added. 

"Harper's  _my_  friend," Monty said with a little shrug. "Not that I don't love your friends, Nate, but they were yours first. I only really ever had Jasper. It's nice to have someone who gets my little inside jokes and stuff." Monty kissed him again, softer than before. “What else?” Monty asked. “I want to crush every single one of your fears so you never have them again.”

Miller shook his head gently. “Already done,” he whispered.

* * *

Miller woke before Monty and crept out of bed, letting him sleep, and slipped into the kitchen to find Harper at the table already. She smiled at him and tipped her head in greeting, and Miller smiled back.

“Late night?” Miller asked as she yawned.

Harper nodded. “Jasper took me all over creation,” she said, “but I evolved my Growlithe, so it’s okay.” Miller laughed and went to pour himself a cup of coffee. “You two were already asleep when I got in but I gave Padme quite a scare. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Mm.” Miller shook his head. He slept better last night than he had in months. “No worries.”

Miller settled into the seat across the table from Harper. “You hanging out with us today?” Harper asked. “Part of the reason I came was to get to know Monty’s future husband.”

Miller tried to fight off his smile at the teasing but he couldn’t stop himself, not after his night with Monty. “Sure,” Miller said. “I’ll come.”

Monty stumbled out of their bedroom a few minutes later, disheveled and sleepy and smiling so adorably that Miller wanted to carry him off to their bedroom all over again. He walked straight to Miller and took the seat beside him, pulling Miller’s face between both of his hands and kissing him firmly.

“Morning,” Monty said when they pulled apart.

Harper was grinning at the two of them. There was a twinkle in Monty’s eyes that filled Miller with so much love. And he could breathe. Everything felt perfect.

Miller isn't sure that he'll ever stop smiling. 


End file.
